


It Counts

by zzzett



Series: Sastiel Love Week March 2016 [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medical, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Doctor Sam, Homeless Castiel, M/M, Patient Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 09:00:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6368386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zzzett/pseuds/zzzett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orthopedic assistant Sam Winchester is keen on helping the homeless man too shy to enter the hospital, because he's a future doctor and a human being, healthcare system be damned.</p><p>Prompts: AU and Domestic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“There.” Sam steps back from the plaster he just casted. The man seems to be in his mid-thirties, with his upper left arm broken, and his state strongly indicating he’s homeless. The tall orthopedic assistant had found him an hour ago, skittishly circling the emergency entrance during his night shift, obviously afraid of being rejected treatment. But being a doctor is still about helping people, Sam believes, so he’d taken the man in for an x-ray he’ll cover himself, and the plaster is nobody’s business. Sue him.

The stranger opens his eyes to glance at his casted arm, then at Sam, and the medic had never seen such unadulterated gratitude in a stare. Also, that blue? It has to be photoshopped. Clearing his throat, Sam proceeds to inform his patient: “I know it hurt a lot, but it’s not too bad a crack. Three months and good as new. Also, uh… Don’t worry about anything else.”

“Thank you,” the man says, with an entrancingly low voice that may or may not be too rough from gritting his teeth moments before. Despite obviously suffering a great deal from the injury and treatment, Blue-Eyes had barely made a sound during his time in the ER. Sam wonders if this is even the worst thing the guy has been through.

“What’s your name, by the way?”

“Castiel,” chapped lips answer, his eyes not leaving Sam’s face, wide and awed. It makes his ears feel hot as somewhere far in his brain he registers the name to be angelic. Some wonderful woman had given birth to a wonderful boy with skies as eyes that could only deserve an angel’s name, and that boy is now a homeless man with a broken arm. Not fair, but Sam thinks it a strange kind of luck to witness this stare.

“I’m Sam,” he tells him, and a glint passes over Castiel’s eyes as his lips curl in the barest of a smile, yet the sincerest. 

“I am glad to have you, Sam.”


	2. Chapter 2

He’s either too good or too stupid, but there’s no way Sam Winchester, future M.D, will send an injured man home when he has no home. Hospital doesn’t care for the penniless either, and the medic feels he’s already due for taking crap over caring for the guy here. So, by the morning after his shift, he drags a very confused Castiel back to his flat, despite the man’s shame over being a burden to a stranger.

“Dude, you can barely move,” Sam chastises as he unlocks the door. “You need a bed, okay? At least for tonight.” For definitely longer, but they’ll see. 

“I’m sorry for this,” Castiel exclaims in distress, slightly flustered as Sam helps him take off his way-too-old shoes. “Thank you, Sam. I don’t know how I can pay-”

“And you don’t need to.” He leads his guest to the living room with an adjoined kitchen. “I’m trying to do my duty here, even if the healthcare system doesn’t.” Besides, what? Will the guy stab him in his sleep with one good arm, and conveniently run from the cops? Dean might say yes, but he’s not living here and doesn’t need to know.

Yeah, Sam’s either too good or too stupid.

Castiel doesn’t look ungrateful, let alone seem to have malicious intent; he just sits on Sam’s armchair, clutching his arm cast and seemingly afraid that he might offend by getting comfortable as the medic prepares the pull-out sofa for him as a bed. Sam glances back at him when he’s done, and smiles reassuringly when he sees the nervous expression.

“It’s alright, Cas.” The nickname comes without thinking and Castiel’s frown eases slightly. “You can make yourself at home. I brought you here willingly, okay? Just focus on resting now. We’ll see what you can do when you’re better.”

The guy’s eyes -aka the bluest blue to ever blue- widen dramatically and it tugs at Sam’s heart. Cas might give him a run for money for his own infamous puppy eyes. “You’re a very good man,” that gruff voice says, almost cracking. “I don’t deserve your kindness, but I’m eternally grateful.”

Sam huffs out a chuckle and makes a dismissive gesture as he turns away, mostly to hide his blushing at the precious words. It’s Saturday and the sun hasn’t fully come up yet; he plans on getting a few hours of sleep, before something else comes to mind.  
“Are you hungry?”

 

*

 

Of course Castiel is starving. Sam fixes him two PB&J sandwiches which the guy devours as politely as he can, and with one hand. The tall host then leaves him to go to bed, saying he’s free to watch TV as he rests. 

When Sam is finally alone in his room, his common sense -which strangely sounds like his big brother- makes a tour over the events of the last couple hours, and he tries not to feel guilty as he locks his door. 

When he wakes up at noon though, he finds nothing to worry about. On the contrary; his long-awaiting dishes are washed, the kitchen and living room look tidier than ever, and Cas is lying on the pull-out sofa with a tired expression. “Hello, Sam,” he breathes out, a pained crease in his brow and his good arm seemingly dead.

Sam’s not sure if he feels worried, mad or thankful now. Probably all, but the faint smile on Castiel’s face is contagious.


End file.
